“Don’t come near me, Shivansh!”

Meera's eyes welled up. She couldn't hold herself back anymore.

Shivansh looked deeply into her eyes and murmured,

“You already asked me to come...”

And with that, he slowly let go of her hand.

Meera glanced down at her lehenga, clearly irritated.

“Oh God! This lehenga is so heavy! I don’t know which lunatic thought this was a good idea.”

Shivansh replied calmly,

“No one forced you... you could’ve chosen not to wear it.”

Annoyed, Meera began tugging at the pin of her dupatta, but it had snagged. Frustration crept up her face.

A few moments later, she felt a familiar touch on her shoulder. She tilted her head and saw—

Shivansh. Gently trying to unfasten the stuck pin.

Meera grabbed his hand.

Shivansh freed it with ease and muttered,

“This isn’t the first time I’ve taken off your pin.”

Meera gritted her teeth at his comment.

Shivansh silently made his way to the sofa, resting his elbow on the armrest, but his eyes kept drifting back to Meera.

He tried to reason with himself: Don’t look at her… don’t look at her…

But his gaze betrayed him—time and again crossing lines he had drawn in his mind.

A while later, Meera left the room without a word. When she returned, she had changed—now in a loose T-shirt and soft cotton pajamas. Her makeup was wiped off, her face bare and calm.

She paused near the bed, casting a glance at Shivansh.

He quickly said,

“Sleep on the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”

She nodded quietly,

“Alright.”

—and lay down on the bed.

Shivansh watched her for a moment longer, then added,

“Just because you got the bed tonight doesn’t mean it’s yours forever.”

Meera, now irritated, sat up.

“Who asked you to sleep on the sofa anyway? Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

She began to rise, but Shivansh stopped her immediately.

“No. You’re already on the bed, so I’ll take the sofa. But if I ever come to sleep on that bed—remember—you’ll sleep beside me.”

Meera froze. His words sent a strange shiver down her spine.

Why?

She asked boldly.

Shivansh smirked,

“Whoever’s on the bed gets to choose who shares it. You don’t want to—so I’m here.”

He pouted playfully.

Meera shot him a glare and pulled the blanket over her head without saying a word.

Silence filled the room. But both knew how loud that silence truly was—echoing with unsaid things, buried questions, and unfinished desires...

At some point during the night, sleep took over. Neither knew when or how.

A new morning had begun.

Sunlight filtered gently through the curtains. Meera was still fast asleep, blissfully unaware. Shivansh, however, had woken up. The clock read 7:00 a.m.

Sleeping on the sofa had left his back a bit sore. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the bed.

Meera was still lost in her dreamworld—smiling faintly in her sleep.

Without a sound, he got up and walked into the bathroom.

The cold shower poured down his head and drenched his body—but inside, his thoughts were tangled.

Will Meera ever accept this relationship? The wedding happened, yes... but will she ever embrace it? Or will I keep being the one to convince her, over and over again?

He shook off the water from his hair, turned off the tap, and wrapped a towel around himself. After changing into black loungewear, he made his way downstairs.

As soon as he stepped in, Jaya ji looked at him.

“Where’s Meera, Shivansh? You came down alone?”

Shivansh sighed in annoyance,

“Mom, you're acting like I left her somewhere on the road.”

Jaya narrowed her eyes.

“Go bring her down. And here—ask her to wear this sari.”

She motioned to the maid, who handed him a beautifully arranged thaal with a sari, jewelry, and other accessories.

Climbing the stairs, Shivansh grumbled,

“Unbelievable. Doesn’t wake up on time, and I have to be the one to go wake her. And then she won’t even listen to me…”

He entered the room and looked toward the bed—Meera was still sleeping soundly.

The clock was ticking close to 8:30.

He set the thaal aside and approached her. He tried waking her gently, but she wouldn’t budge.

Her peaceful face, the scattered strands of hair, her soft breathing—it was oddly mesmerizing.

He stood there, watching her.

Her big eyes, framed by long lashes. That tiny nose, soft pink lips, and an innocent, round face…

After a few seconds of staring, some unknown irritation crept up inside him. Without thinking much, he picked up a glass of cold water and poured it on her face.

“Water! Water!!”

Meera jolted awake, gasping.

“Are you insane?! What if it got into my nose?! I could’ve stopped breathing!”

She glared at him, wiping her face furiously.

Shivansh slammed the glass down on the table.

“Have you looked at the time?”

She glanced at the clock.

“Okay, so? What now?”

“Mom wants you downstairs. Everyone’s at the breakfast table by nine. Make sure you’re not late.”

“Don’t order me around, got it? I don’t take orders from anyone,” Meera snapped.

“I know...”

he muttered under his breath—soft enough that she didn’t hear.

She began drying her face.

“And what the hell is wrong with you?! Who wakes someone up like that?!”

Shivansh replied coolly,

“To be woken up with love, you need to have habits worthy of it. You don’t.”

Meera growled,

“Then why did you marry me?!”

He paused for a beat. Then, keeping his tone steady, said,

“Mom’s calling. Get ready. Wear what’s in the thaal.” He gestured toward it.

“Disgusting man! Ever heard of manners?!”

She snatched up the thaal and stormed into the bathroom.

Shivansh was just stepping away when—splash!

A full bucket of water poured over him from behind.

Soaked, stunned, he turned. Meera stood at the door, a triumphant fire in her eyes.

“And the next time you try to wake me up like that—remember this was just a trailer!”

She slammed the door shut behind her.

Shivansh stood frozen, dripping wet and completely speechless.

He muttered,

“What... just happened?”

After a long second, he exhaled sharply.

“Meera!”

he growled, stomping off to change.

As he changed into another T-shirt, he kept mumbling in irritation—

“She thinks she's something else... had to change twice now! What was the point of the water?! Next time, I’m not waking her up at all. Sleep all you want!”

Meanwhile, in a room elsewhere...

Soft daylight streamed through an old window. A young man sat in a worn-out chair, head bowed, lost deep in thought. His fingers traced over the edges of an old letter on the table, almost as if trying to relive a memory that once belonged to him.

Silence consumed the room—broken only by the rustling leaves outside and a distant bird’s call. His eyes looked tired, but his heart... restless. As if he had lost something—or someone.

“I’ve been searching for you for so long…

And now, when I finally find you, it’s at my best friend’s wedding…”

His voice held both wonder... and a tinge of betrayal.

“I used to only know half the truth...

And now that I know everything, I don’t even know how to tell you.

If I do—what if you walk away?”

He stared at the photograph in his hands. His eyes lingered on the face in it.

“You’re still the same… just not smiling the way you used to. And even when you do smile… it’s missing something. What happened to you all these years? Something’s changed. Maybe... everything.”

There was a deep ache in his voice, a secret that was eating him from within.

“Is there someone else in your life now…?”

Tears welled up as he drew the photo closer, pressing it to his lips.

“Sshh… now that I’ve found you, I’ll make sure I never lose you again. I’ll make every effort so that your path leads only to me... and your destination… is me.”